


Augustine Wolfe

by Scrawlix



Series: The Chronicles of Augustine Wolfe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Caning, F/F, F/M, Shibari, Total Power Exchange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrawlix/pseuds/Scrawlix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven and a half months out of the year, Natasha Romanova is a super spy and an incredible asset to SHIELD. But for two weeks, she becomes someone barely recognizable in the hands of a powerful enigmatic billionaire by the name of Augustine Wolfe. But even the most adept can't be two people for long, can they? ON HIATUS UNTIL MID JULY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my baby. I've been obsessing over this for a while- the proof being in a sketchbook filled. Please be kind. And please comment.
> 
> I'm moving across the country soon and don't plan on having much time until the middle of July to write.

 

She found herself on a yacht in Odessa. It was massive and over the top but then, Natasha found herself unsurprised by this. Their past encounters had always been like this, starting somewhere beyond the watchful gaze of SHIELD in a place that displayed an incredible amount of opulence and wealth. She wore a mask of porcelain that covered the upper half of her face in the shape of a wolf. Her trademark red hair was covered in a veil of black lace.

Sipping champagne from her seat on the upper deck, Natasha watched as employees and guests mingled. She didn't know who these people were and in fact, the less she knew the better. Usually, if she was on a mission, she'd be trying to disguise herself by fitting in but this was different. Natasha knew that if she were to try and talk to anyone on the ship besides a simple request from a silent employee, they would turn their backs on her and walk away. It had always been this way.

Her place among the elite was painfully obvious. Despite her legendary skills and her connections to some of the world's most powerful people, it didn't impress this crowd. The ship left the harbor, floating out to sea. She should be concerned where they were going and if she were to hazard a guess, it'd be out to the world sea via the Turkish Canal and from there, she didn't really care. Taking another deep gulp from her glass, she set it on an awaiting tray before taking another. She twisted to face the sea and leaned against the back of the couch. It was very liberating to not care about one's safety when that was one's priority eleven and a half months out of the year.

"Miss Natasha, your Master is calling." A uniformed employed spoke said. She turned and look at the man who was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes trained on the floor before the couch she was sitting on.

She finished her champagne before setting it on the ledge. The crystal rang out when she flicked it, causing it to wobble before dropping off the side and into the dark waves below. Quietly Natasha followed the man into the cabin and down to a spacious suite with white carpets, white leather and stainless steel chairs and glass tabletops. A black square mat was laid out in the middle of the room, the only deviation from the white theme and Natasha felt a thrill of fear and excitement when she saw it.

The man stopped at the door to the bathroom, holding it open for her as she walked in and quietly closing it. Inside, a woman stood in white scrubs in front of a table. Natasha pulled off her black sequined gown, and mask and stripped herself of her under garments before getting onto the table. The smell of Jasmine filled the air before warmed hands chased the knots from her muscles. Feeling heavy with lethargy, Natasha sighed happily and drifted off to sleep.

An half hour later she was gently woken by the sound of her name being called. It was the masseuse carrying a covered tray. Natasha opened an eye and watched the woman uncover it and begin rearranging tools. She sighed and rolled over, 'Lets get this over with." She growled.

Another fifteen minutes later and she was uncomfortably tweezed and waxed on every part of her body.She consoled herself to a long bubble bath, again cut shorter by a polite tap on the door by the masseuse. In another world, Black Widow would have tossed her out the window. But that identity was miles away, locked in a box that said, "Do not open". She was Natasha, here. She was no one of importance. She didn't have blood on her hands, her ledger wasn't dripping in red, and there weren't a million SHIELD secrets floating in her head.

With a sigh, she got out of the bath and allowed herself to be toweled off. Her hair was brushed and contained in a tight ponytail that was then braided and coiled in a bun. She had jasmine scented perfume dabbed behind her knees, inner thighs, collarbone, behind the ears and wrists. She shrugged into a black lace halter top and a pair of high waisted underwear of the same material.

From there, Natasha walked into the white room and settled on her black mat, kneeling gracefully and folding her hands in her lap. A basket was set in front of her, one that she knew all too well. Her breathing caught in her throat as it was opened so she could see what was inside- rope. Undyed jute rope of varying lengths and thicknesses, brass and wooden rings of different sizes. It was all there, just as she had left it a year ago. She looked up into the face of the woman who had been helping her and nodded. The basket was closed and set in front of her and without a word, she was left alone in the large suite.

Time yawned before her. She tried to still her mind but knew the effort was fruitless. On the outside, she was as still and serene as a rock but on the inside, her thoughts washed over her in a torrent. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was out of practice but knew that as soon as the Master had her firmly in hand, her chaotic mind would follow too. Her joints grew stiff. Hours had passed. Glancing outside, the sun was down and the night sky was black without the light pollution from Odessa.

The door clicked and swung open. Her eyes, no it seemed like every cell in her body, was trained on the person that stood in the doorway. She lifted her head and stared straight ahead as the Master entered, walking past her without acknowledging her. This was it. This was how it always went. The time it took from the Master's entrance to when the Master acknowledged her was varied and that interaction differed. She would not shift or move in the Master's presence because that would mean she would be a disappointment and she hadn't been a disappointment on the first day since she had started being the Master's submissive.

The Master was moving around the room, opening and shutting doors and drawers. "How is my sweet girl doing?" The voice asked.

Natasha licked her impossibly dry lips with a tongue that felt like it was coated with sand. It took her two tries but she finally spoke in a voice that rasped, "Your sweet girl is well, Master. She wishes to know how her Precious Master is."

"I'm fine, my sweet." A hand gently touched her cheek, cupping her jaw and tilting her head up. "Look at me." She raised her eyes and looked up into the face of her Master.

The Master was tall. A little over six feet, encased in a dark grey silk suit that she knew cost more than what most people made in a month. The Master's hair was white-blonde and cut chin length and perfectly straight. Icy blue eyes fringed in dark eyelashes, eyebrows that are bold and dark. The Master was beautiful. The Master was perfect. She stared up into the Master's face as the familiar feel and weight of her collar slid around her neck, locking closed with a snick. The only way it would come off is with a custom made key that was hung around the Master's neck by a fine chain.

"Go to the bed and stand facing it, sweeting."

Natasha got to her feet with minimal amount of struggling. Her feet were numb but that didn't stop her from gliding to the bed and stopping short with her feet together, her hands at her sides. Hands fell on her shoulder, gliding down her arms. A mouth gently kissed the side of her neck. "Kneel on the bed and put your hands behind your back." She acquiesced and waited as her Master moved beyond her field of vision.

It didn't take long for the ropes to slide around her limbs, locking them in place with skillfully placed knots. Warm hands caressed her flushed skin, making her heart quicken as the heat at the base of her belly grew. She would stay compliant, letting the Master manipulate her limbs and move her about. Arms wrapped around her body, lashing the rope beneath her breasts and around her back, under her arms and over her shoulders. The movements were lost on her as the logical part of her nature was quickly overcome by the sensuality that reared up inside of her. She dropped her head back on a shoulder as the rope was manipulated and felt bereft when the Master withdrew.

When her last foot left the ground, tied in place by a succession of knots, Natasha felt the rightness of it, the connectedness of it as it slid into place and destroyed the frisson of fear that dwelt in her mind. Her head had dropped and she felt the gentle motions of the Master as she was swung around for the handiwork to be admired.

The ropes that had been placed between her legs and wrapped around her thighs had created a harness. She was hanging from those ropes by a silver ring embedded in the wall. Her legs dangled, spread far apart by the ropes that were wrapped around her thighs and attached to her arms. Gravity forced her body to arch, breasts jutting out between the rope harness that encased her rib cage, straining the delicate lace fabric of her halter top.

She could feel her dampness, the sweet musk of her arousal as it trailed down her leg in one pristine rivulet. The Master bent and caught that drop with an adept lick, chasing it to the point of origin which caused her helpless body to shudder. There would be no toys tonight, tonight was about intimate touch. Natasha had desperately needed this. She didn't presume to know what the Master needed but past experience told her that there was something about this that couldn't be avoided.

"My darling, sweet girl." The Master murmured while raining kisses on the insides of Natasha's thighs. Somewhere during the time she was being tied up, the Master had shucked off the dark grey coat and tie and stood in shirtsleeves and pants. Despite the removal of the jacket, the Master looked as though they had just stepped out of a meeting and could probably go back at any second. "Speak to me and tell me what you want."

She lifted her head and looked into the icy depths of the Master's eyes, "I want you to fuck me."

Chuckling huskily, the Master's hands deftly undid the buttons to fine cotton shirt they were wearing to reveal  perfect, pert breasts that Natasha only dreamed about eleven and a half months out of the year. There was a mole just above and to the right of her belly button that Natasha had kissed a hundred times before and by the end of their time together, she would kiss dozens more. The belt was undone and pants dropped to reveal a pair of white lace boyshorts. She was almost naked but even in her nakedness, the Master was powerful. There was nothing vulnerable about her. "Say my name, Natasha Romanova." the Master demanded.

Natasha still held her Master's gaze as she breathed, "Augustine Wolfe."

 

**A week before.**

 

She hadn't slept well despite the workout and mission that had left her sapped. A second glance at the clock revealed that only fifteen minutes had passed since she last looked. It was too early to get up. Natasha knew that she'd be tired early on in the day- most likely when she was required to sit through yet another boring SHIELD debrief, if she got out of bed at this time.

Natasha sighed and threw the blankets back, setting her feet on the floor and hoisting herself out of bed reluctantly. Pulling her hair into tight ponytail, she swept across the room to stand in front of the bay window. Naked but invulnerable, she watched the city move impassively. Glancing straight ahead, she caught sight of herself in the window. Her eyes were large and empty pools, devoid of life. Turning away, she walked towards the door after wrapping herself in a silk robe.

"Natasha?" Clint called sleepily from his room. She turned and pushed the door open slightly to regard her friend from his bed. "You okay?"

It took considerable effort for her to smile but she managed it. Walking into the room, she threw back the covers and got in, wrapping her arms around him. She kissed his back, "I'm fine.

"It's almost time, isn't it?"

She sighed and kissed his shoulder again, "Almost."

"You won't tell me where you go, will you?" He asked, turning in her arms and gathering her against his chest.

Natasha shook her head, "No."

Kissing the top of her head, Clint spoke, "Be careful, alright?"

"Always." She murmured, kissing his cheek before settling against the pillows. She felt sleep snatch away her thoughts, her body relaxed in his arms.

Her dreams were fragmented and left her anxious when she woke. An icy pair of eyes, a knowing smirk, skin that was pale and flawless like porcelain haunted her thoughts. She was alone. By the lack of warmth on the vacant side of the bed, Clint had been up for a while. She readjusted her robe and padded into the kitchen, stopping to stretch as she took in the sight. Clint was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating toast with cheese whiz as he read the Daily Bugle. She poured herself a cup and before taking her customary chair, dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

"Morning." He said, giving her a smile. "Sleep well?"

"As good as always." She lied, giving him a sly smile as she snuck a piece of toast off his plate and took a bite. "How about you?"

He gave her a one sided shrug before pulling out the pages that he knew she wanted. "Crossword?"

"Not today." She dropped the half eaten toast on the plate. "Got stuff to do."

He resumed reading an accusatory article on Stark Industries' war profiteering. "Since when do you not have time for the crossword?" Clint asked but was shocked to find himself speaking to an empty room.


	2. Chapter 2

She was gently pulled out of sleep by a kiss on her hip. Opening her eyes, she found the subject of her dreams sitting at her side with a cup of coffee in her hands. Natasha took the cup with a smile. "So how are you this morning, my lovely one?" Augustine asked, her voice quiet.

"I'm fine, Master. Better." She stretched like a cat, humming happily. "Better than I've been in months."

Augustine tilted her head thoughtfully, tracing a pattern against Natasha's thigh. "I sensed as much. You didn't accept the rope as well as you usually do. You were listless in your sleep as well." 

She sat cross legged on the bed and took cautious sips of the hot liquid. "May I ask a question, Master?" And after an acquiescent nod of her blonde head, Natasha asked, "Where are we going?"

"We're going out to sea. There's another yacht we'll meet up with tonight where our guests will part ways." She took Natasha's hand and gently kissed her knuckle, "Then, off to my villa."

The villa! The redhead smiled brilliantly at her Master as she remembered the last time she had been there. The beautiful stone walls nestled on the edge of a cliff, large windows that displayed Baffin Bay. Their fortress of solitude. "Can I kiss you Master?"

"Yes you can, darling." 

Their mouths met, lips parting and tongues questing in a tentative greeting. Hot breath mingling. Natasha clenched her free hand around the other woman's as their kiss grew deeper. Augustine took the mug from her other hand before its contents were carelessly spilt on the bed. She pulled back and set the mug on the side table before turning to give the other woman a crooked smile, "You almost spilled coffee on me."

Natasha was panting, her pupils blown. She struggled to comprehend the words and when she finally did, she felt embarrassed and horrified, "I'm sorry, Master."

"Apology accepted." Augustine snuck another kiss on her reddened cheek before standing and pulling her waistcoat straight. "Now get up, you lazy girl. You've been sleeping all day and you have to get ready for the party."

Natasha watched the other woman go before getting out of bed and stretching. She found Gretchen waiting at the door to the bathroom wearing her customary white scrubs. She was delighted to see that there was a warm bath waiting for her, candles were lit and soft music was playing. She settled into the bath and sighed happily. 

Giving her twenty minutes to soak, Gretchen appeared and politely cleared her throat. Natasha peaked out from beneath the warm cloth she had placed on her head but didn't say anything. She knew that it was important for them to keep on schedule. No doubt, the process of dressing would take a while, depending on what Augustine had in store for her. 

She didn't need to wear make up. The mask she was to wear was hanging by its ribbons on the mirror- no doubt it had been delivered by Augustine herself. It was a full mask of gold filigree so fine that the it didn't look like it was made with metal at all. It looked like it had been made from gossamer. 

Gretchen pulled a gown from a large white box. It fell in soft golden folds, spilling like water across the floor. She smiled as she ran a hand along the fabric, thinking that it reminded her of the look and feel of Augustine's hair laced in her fingers. She imagined how the cloth would feel on her body, like Augustine's hands, cool and soft, tracing the curves of her body. 

It took hours for her costume to be put on. Delicate, and intricate, everything that their relationship was. The two wide swaths of silk satin were wrapped through her collar to hang down the length of her body. It was skillfully sewn beneath her armpits with invisible stitches by Gretchen which made Natasha wonder if there was anything that the other woman couldn't do. Silk sleeves that ended in gloves were added, straps were laced beneath the dress so that it looked the gloves were a part of the dress. It had a hood that was pulled up to cover her red hair which was pinned back carefully. A corset of the same delicate filigree as her mask was added which was closed and locked with a small key. 

She watched with some trepidation as the mask which she realized was one half of a cage, was set in place and then locked there with the same key that was used on her corset. She didn't recognize herself. This golden statue that stood in heels, and silk, caged like a pretty bird. Idly, she wondered what Clint would think if he had seen her like this. Pushing thoughts of him out of her mind, she turned and looked Gretchen. "I feel… ridiculous."

"You look beautiful." Augustine answered as she walked into room wearing suit of red brown brocade with a vest and button up shirt of the same color as the dress Natasha wore. She took one of Natasha's gloved hands and brushed her lips along her knuckles. 

"You do too, Master." Natasha whispered. 

"I have something for you." She pulled out a velvet box and opened it. Inside was a rope of garnets set in gold, one end was a red-brown handle, the other a clasp. It wasn't long, around a foot in length. Natasha touched it and smiled, "It's beautiful." She said softly. 

"I've never given you anything like this before. I loathe the idea of handing off jewelry to you because there isn't anything on this earth that can convey what I feel for you, Natasha." Augustine pulled the chain from the box and gently snapped the clasp on her collar. "The time we've spent together has been a blessing and it's something that I will never, ever forget. Long after what we have now has been ended." The garnets hung between her breasts, the cloth handle dangled in front of the corset. 

Her hand was taken and she was lead up to the deck where people were mingling. They were all wearing expensive suits and costumes, dripping with jewels. It was clear who the submissives were by the way they were dressed. Not all of them were covered so completely as she was or as lavishly. Some were dressed simply in zentais with jeweled collars. Some in latex dresses. 

When the doors opened, everyone turned and stared. The couple walked silently onto the deck. Natasha felt the cool air saturate the silk, a welcomed boon as she felt all eyes on her. Augustine leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, "Darling girl, they only have eyes for you."

Soon after arriving, they were called to dinner by a man in a white suit carrying a small crystal bell. Seats were provided for the dominant guests and behind them, stools for their submissives which they weren't allowed to take until food had been served. Each took their place with Augustine sitting at the head of the table. She knew what she was required to do, to stand at her left and keep wine glasses full and serve food. She did it gracefully, with a practiced quiet ease. 

In the galley, Natasha waited for Augustine's plate to be delivered when a hand grazed her behind. She jerked her head back, turned and stared into the bloodshot eyes of a man she recognized as Benjamin William. His submissive was standing behind him with a shocked look on his face. She looked around the room, realizing that the busy kitchen had gone quiet and still. 

"So you're that butch dyke's pretty piece of meat." The man drawled. Natasha dropped her eyes to the floor. "Look at me." She looked up into his sweaty face, biting back the urge to curl her lip in disgust. "How about you come back to my room and I'll spank your pretty ass red." He grabbed her hand. 

It was more muscle memory than anything that caused her to react. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand, yanking it up so she could step underneath and wrench his arm painfully behind his back. Her other hand grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into a platter of cheese. 

"What is going on here?" The words were like a whip that sliced through the silence. She let go of William's hand and took two steps back until she was up against a wall. Augustine walked in, followed by an anxious looking steward. 

"Your little bitch just attacked me." The man snarled, rubbing his shoulder. 

Augustine raised an eyebrow at Natasha before looking back at the dom, "From what I saw and heard, you molested her." She said in a low voice, the only sign of her anger being a twitching cheek muscle. "You know the rules, Mr. William. Unless permission is given beforehand, you may not touch another's submissive. As I recall, I did not give you that permission."

"Don't quote the rules at me, little girl." He snarled, "I've been doing this long before you were born."

"Then you should have known better." She turned to the steward, "Please escort Mr William to his room. Have security guards meet him there and have him pack his things. I want him off this ship in fifteen minutes." Ignoring the man's spluttering protests, Augustine crooked a finger at Natasha. 

Natasha followed quietly. The rest of the guests had left the dining room. They were in a large sitting room, the walls were hedged with cushions. In the middle of the room was a platform. "Get on the platform." Her Master growled, shoving her forwards. 

She stepped up and waited, watching Augustine intently as the woman removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. "It seems I will provide you with a little entertainment tonight." The words made Natasha go cold. Her eyes went wide beneath her mask. Gretchen appeared with a steward behind her. She was carrying the basket, the servant held a long brass handled cane. 

"It regrets me to say that despite careful and meticulous training, she still has a bit of a wild streak." Augustine gave the crowd a small smile. "She laid hands on a dominant. While I will admit that she did it to defend herself, I feel it is necessary to impart a lesson. That no matter how just her actions are, she broke a rule and that will not go unpunished." She opened the basket and picked out a length of rope. "It is, as I am sure you can agree, a necessary chore of a dominant. We must never, ever allow a punishment to go unpunished." It was so quiet in the room that everyone could hear the sound of helicopter rotors. Augustine turned to Natasha as she unraveled the rope, letting the sound of the helicopter fade away. 

Gretchen came up behind Natasha and deftly unlocked her corset, removing the fine metal garment. Scissors cut away the silk, leaving her naked and for the first time in a long time, feeling vulnerable. She clenched her fists at her sides, stared straight ahead as her limbs were manipulated and held in place by a series of knots. Made to bend down with her forearms on her thighs, the ropes held her in place. A few deft movements from Augustine and she was bound so tightly in that position she could hardly breathe. She bit back a moan as the rope bit into her flesh and her body left the ground. 

She dangled there, helpless and exposed, fighting back the urge to struggle. Augustine ran a hand along her backside, alternating between gently tapping and massaging her muscles. "Breathe, Natasha." It was only when the order was given that she realized she had been holding her breath. 

The cane bit into her backside and elicited a yelp from the woman. It was followed by a series of stuttering taps. She couldn't clench up, she reminded herself, if she did then it would just prolong her embarrassment and her pain. The crowd watched, murmuring their appreciation as Augustine worked the cane. 

Rage almost overrode reason as she dangled helplessly in the ropes. Her other self, the indomitable and deadly Black Widow was screaming in her head against the carefully groomed rules and reasons for this indignity that she allowed herself to suffer. Another flick of the cane, this one bit deep and caused her face to contort in rage. Those that saw it shared a knowing look with their neighbor. They knew that look. It was a look of rebellion that was going to be snuffed out with a brutal efficiency that few knew how to exact. Augustine Wolfe was one of those few people. Before she could open her mouth to say something vicious, a hand lashed out and slapped her hard enough to leave her ears ringing. Something was being pushed into her mouth- a knot that she knew was called a monkey's ball. It was held in place by the silk fabric that had once been her dress. Her eyes were covered next.

"I apologize for my slave's indiscretion, my friends. She still has a lot to learn and it seems I have been a little too indulgent." As Augustine spoke, the cane slapped against Natasha's thighs. "Her rebellious nature has always been both an attraction and deterrent." There were a few titters in the group of watchers and the cane, which had been tapping along her legs randomly, smacked against her buttocks and caused her to clench and moan into the rope knot. 

This went on for another fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Natasha struggled to keep from indulging in her fantasies of homicide. She listened to the sound of the thin wooden rod against her flesh, and to the sound of Augustine as she talked nonchalantly to the twenty or so strangers in the room with them. Her limbs were going numb when the ropes were finally let up. She lay on the floor, pliant and exhausted. Her feet were released but her arms remained tied around her back. The blindfold and gag were pulled away and she worked her jaw as she glared at the other woman. They were alone. She couldn't remember when the crowd had left, her mind had completely blanked out. Natasha rolled to her feet and lashed out with a snarl, her foot connecting with a forearm. A hand connected with her chest, causing her to stumble backwards and land on her ass on the platform. 

"Stop it, Natasha." The words broke through the red haze. She glared at the blonde woman as she unrolled her sleeves and pulled the knot on her tie tight. "If you don't stop fighting, this will escalate and between the two of us, who has their hands tied behind their back?"

"It won't stop me from killing you." Natasha said raggedly, trying not to shift from the pain radiating from her thoroughly red and welted backside.

Tilting her head back, Augustine laughed. It was warm and cold, hard and soft and a hundred other puzzling and contradictory pairings that made Natasha's head spin. She took her jacket off of a couch and brushed at an imaginary piece of lint before putting it back on. "Darling girl, if you meant to kill me I would have been dead a long, long time ago."

And that had been the truth of the entire situation. Natasha had never ever relinquished control with that particular sword hanging over the other woman's head. It had never really disappeared between them. "You don't make it hard to change my mind." 

Augustine just smiled. It was a warm, indulgent smile like a parent would give to their child's cutesy antics. She scooped Natasha up and held her in her arms, followed out of the room by a silent but ever present Gretchen who held the remnants of her gown on top of the basket of ropes. She was placed on the bed on her side and gently rolled onto her stomach. The ropes were released and Natasha groaned as she rolled her shoulders to ease the pain. "You were such a good girl, Natasha. The way you took the cane, I can tell that it took a lot for you to submit." Hands spread cool balm along the welts on her buttocks and thighs. "You looked so beautiful. So helpless with your bottom bright red and the ropes biting into your skin." A kiss was placed at the base of her spine. 

She felt the edges of her anger dull. The humiliation seemed to ebb as Augustine's soft words of approval washed over her. She watched Augustine administer gentle care to her wounds and found herself hating that she had said such terrible things. The guilt of it washed over her, leaving her chest heavy and her throat tight. "I'm sorry, Master. I deserved it… didn't I?"

"You did." The words were almost apologetic. Icy blue eyes, almost colorless in their paleness, held Natasha's. "I hope you know that I don't like humiliating you."

"But I deserved it."

Nodding and standing, she wiped her hand on a towel that had been placed on the bedside table. Augustine pulled off her clothes and crawled onto the bed. She gathered the other woman up in her arms, kissing the top of her head. "I sent that man away. You'll never have to see him again."

She looked up at her master, blinking in confusion. It took her a moment but she realized that Augustine was talking about what had started it all- the man, Williams, who had had the audacity to lay his hands on her and insult her Master. "I had to do it. He insulted you."

Augustine's hands cupped her face and chased kisses over its beautiful planes. "I know."

"I couldn't just let him say those things." Her lip curled as her anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach, "And then he touched me again."

"Put it out of your mind, darling girl." The blonde whispered against Natasha's lips before gently pressing a kiss on them. "He's gone and he'll never come back."

The anger and the hate that she had for this woman was a distant, forgotten thing. Black Widow was prowling along the edge of her consciousness, carefully recording the subtle vibrations of her thoughts like the spider she was. There would be a day when the rage of every slight this woman had inflicted on her would come roaring back to her and she'd have to make a vital decision- would she have the ability to let Augustine live?

Instead of trying to answer that question, Natasha submitted to the warmth of strong arms wrapping around her naked body. She still had the hood and gloves on, but that didn't bother her. At that moment, she was right where she needed to be and exactly who she had to be. She let out a soft sigh and submitted to the bliss of unconsciousness that washed over her in gentle, loving waves.


End file.
